


2. Explosion

by wordscorrupt



Series: Whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Explosions, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:53:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordscorrupt/pseuds/wordscorrupt
Summary: A faulty pipe nearly takes Tony's kid away from him.





	2. Explosion

He sent a message to the kid, warning him to be in the car in five minutes or less before he sics Happy on him.

Peter never had the chance to reply back.

Tony had sighed after sending the message, shaking his head fondly before placing his phone snuggly into the front pocket of his suit jacket. He had glanced towards Happy in the front seat, opened his mouth to speak and then –

The explosion.

His world went black. 

He comes back to it a few minutes later. Or perhaps hours later. Maybe a day. He can’t tell.

His mind is a jumbled mess as he tries to take in his surroundings but it’s difficult with the smoke swirling around and the harsh ringing sound that refuses to go away. He can barely make out someone calling his name through the buzzing in his ear.

“Boss! Boss! Tony, are you alright?”

The bright light from the sun nearly blinds him when the door to the back is thrown open and two arms reach out for him before he’s practically manhandled out of the car. He feels the shattered glass from the windows crack underneath his shoes as he is pulled out. He stumbles out and coughs, desperately trying to clear the smoke from his lungs.

Happy’s there, steadying him until all his senses slowly come back into play.

“What the hell happened?” He croaks out.

He takes a look around for any clues but all he can see is a flurry of people running around with confusion and panic etched across their faces. Sirens blare in the distance. Debris is scattered around the road. When glances up at Peter’s apartment building he gasps and his eyes widen as he sees an enormous, gaping hole filled with smoke and fire.

Before he knows it, he’s yelling Peter’s name and running towards the building fueled by pure adrenaline. He gets to the entrance only to be nearly trampled on from people, shrieking and covered in smoke, trying to escape from the damaged apartment complex.

He pushes through though and scatters up the stairs, pulling his shirt up and over his mouth and nose. He can’t engage the suit as it would just slow him down in such a tight place.

By the time he is to the fifth floor, his eyes are burning from smoke and he has no choice but to employ the suit if he is to be any help to Peter.

The face shield latches shut and as he starts to call out for Peter once more he sees, in between the cloud of black smoke and red blaring lights of the fire alarms, a tiny figure hunched over on the floor of the hallway.

“Peter!” He rushes over sidestepping the scattered wreckage before reaching the kid. He can barely make out the figure out but there is no denying it is those familiar brown eyes staring up at him.

A trembling hand reaches out for him and not a moment later Peter is safe in his arms.

Peter tries to speak, as evident by the stuttered words to try to sound out his mentor’s name only to be interrupted by raspy coughs and wheezes.

“It’s okay, don’t speak. I got you, kiddo. I got you.”

~

Gas explosion.

That’s what the investigators were suggesting as stated by the newscaster on the television screen.

Tony shook his head. A faulty pipe nearly took his kid away from him. He ran a hand down his face before turning to focus on said kid.

“Another deep breath.”

Tony took a seat on the edge of the bed, watching the grimace on Peter’s face as he breathed for Bruce who stood behind him listening to his lungs. A few moments later the scientist stood back up, removing and setting the stethoscope onto the table beside the bed.

“A little bit better,” Bruce commented, looking over at Tony who nodded his head.

“Does it mean I can take this off now?” Peter asked, voice barely above a whisper. Tony knew it hurt for him to talk.

Peter reached for the oxygen mask over his face and Tony was able to grab his hand before he pulled it off.

“Nope, buddy, we still need to leave that on.”

“But- “

“But, nothing, kiddo. It’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

Bruce backed him up. “That’s true, Peter. While your lungs sound better, you are far from okay. We need to be careful and keep that on at all times.”

Peter huffed, fiddling with the oxygen tubing.

“You want to try sleeping now, kiddo?” Tony suggested, waving Bruce off as the man left.

Peter rolled his eyes, mumbling, “I guess.”

Tony had finished tucking the blanket around him when Peter grabbed his wrist. He glanced down, frowning when he saw the tears in the corner of the kid’s eyes. “What are we going to do, Mister Stark?”

“What do you mean, bud?” Tony prodded, smoothing back Peter’s hair, trying to ignore the black soot instantly covering his fingers.

“It’s all gone,” Peter whispered, tears quickly making their way down his cheeks. “May and I, we – we have nothing left. No home. No – “

“I’m gonna stop you right there, kiddo. You’ve got me. You and May have nothing to worry about, okay? Your only concern is to get better now.” Tony gently brushed the tears away with his thumbs. “Come on, bud, no more crying. That’s not gonna get you to help you feel any better. And May’s gonna have my ass hanging from the mantle if she’s come back from the hospital to see you crying.”

Peter let out a wet laugh, shaking his head at that image. “She would.”

Tony scoffed, pulling the blanket up to Peter’s shoulders. “No doubt. She’s one determined woman. Which is another reason you guys will be fine.”

Peter sniffled. “You promise?”

Tony squeezed his hand gently, giving him a reassuring smile. “One hundred percent, bud.” 


End file.
